Endless Waltz
by Mort Juden
Summary: Originally posted under the pen name DimWeezer, now revised and altered. Alex/Lara. On their way to discovering the secret of the Mayas.
1. Cuts In Question

**Authors Note:** Hi, I originally posted this fic under the pen name DimWeezer, but due to a long term illness it was discontinued. I'm back now, and I've made improvements to the chapters, and will continue the story once I have them all posted. Here's hoping there are still people out there who want to read it. Any reviews would be greatly appreciated, flames included, though I don't expect any. Chapters will be longer in future. Please be patient- the story will unfold slowly. Thank you.

**Disclaimer:** Tomb Raider and its characters are the property of Simon West, Paramount Pictures and Eidos Interactive. This story is strictly for my own personal pleasure. Any similarities between this story's plot and any others is purely coincidental. No plagiarism intended.

Warning! Rating may go up as my imagination wanders….

Chapter One: Cuts in question.

The bustling lobby of Boothby's Auction House hummed with the chatter of iridescent shapes, moving and shifting in a blur of indefinite images. Alexander West had eyes only for the beautiful sight ascending the stair case. Lara Croft, in her motor cycle leathers and helmet in hand, looked over the top of her sunglasses and groaned inwardly. Quickening her pace, she attempted to brush past the man whose very presence had the infuriating effect of turning her emotions into turmoil.

"Hey, Lara…", turning, Alex tried to get her attention, but she ignored him and hurried off to the next auction where a supposed necklace of one of king Henry VIII's wives was being sold to the highest bidder. Lara waved her left hand behind her as he began to follow, and he noticed the scars on the palm and fingers.

Alex's mind floated back to the day five months ago when Lara had emerged from The Tomb of Ten Thousand Shadows….

* * *

Alex heard Lara's laughter long before the sled came into view. Powell's soldiers had left, and Bryce and Pimms waited with varying degrees of impatience in the freezing cold climate of Novaya Zemlya for the tomb raider to appear. Alex had been pacing, waving his hands agitatedly in irate gestures- directed mostly at Powell but some to himself in his mind- and seemingly wordlessly spoke to himself. Snow cracked and flew in the impending sleds wake. Halting roughly, Lara looked over her shoulder at the tomb entrance as an immovable piece of rock fell from the ceiling. Without the key stone, the entire roof splintered and crumbled, caving in on itself. The sound of its collapse was muffled by the snow in an entirely unsatisfactory _thump_. Raising a delicate eyebrow, Lara smiled humourlessly at Alex. Just then, Alex noted the blood dripping from her left arm. It ran in tendrils around her forearm like an intricate red web, though he could see the wounds were actually in the soft flesh of her palm, and maybe her fingers.

"Christ Lara! What were you doing?" when no answer was forthcoming, he haphazardly began to throw miscellaneous items from his rucksack in search of the small tin he knew he would found there. Having located the elusive item, he hunched down in front of Lara where she sat perched on the edge of her sled. He held out his hand and she wordlessly gave him hers. Taking up a handful of snow, he proceeded to clean the wounds which were slowly coagulating. Lara looked at the tin Alex had now opened, which was about six inches square. It contained a variety of things a person could need in virtually any situation. Three small plastic boxes- green, red and blue- were labelled 'first-aid kit', 'burn kit' and 'bandages' respectively. Among other things inside the tin were water proof matches, some string, a beta light and a magnetic compass, and … a condom.

As Alex reached into the tin for the antiseptic spray, he noticed Lara's pointed gaze. "it can hold up to a litre of water", he mumbled shamefacedly as he began to gently bandage her hand. Of course she knew that, but she revelled in the fact that she could so easily make him nervous. Alex had carried that tin around with him everywhere for as long as she has known him. Even back in secondary school, where he had joined her from America. She suddenly remembered the geeky and uncertain boy she had befriended when she was sixteen and smiled genuinely at Alex.

Puzzled by her sudden warmth, Alex decided to take the opportunity to kiss her hand on the knuckles. She merely cocked an eyebrow at him. Then he covered the tin with its lid and re-wrapped the water proof tape around the edges. While this was going on, Bryce had been frantically tapping at his keyboard, hoping it would work despite the fact he knew they were in a dead zone. Seeing that Alex was helping Lara into the storage section of their sled (how the American had convinced her that he should steer he did not know), Bryce packed his now useless hunk of metal away and got on the sled he and Pimms were riding….

Lara had never told Alex how she got the cuts on her hand. He kept having dreams of Powell throwing a knife that pierced him in the chest, of falling into water and his body being crushed by the orrery's gears, and of Lara giving him the breath of life before finally kissing him good bye. Oh! How she would laugh if she found out about them! He would never hear the end of it, and yet… how did Lara get those cuts? How did Powell's knife end up embedded in its owner's shoulder? He was sure it had been intended for him. Maybe his subconscious had created the dreams to fill a gap?

* * *

Snapping out of his reverie, Alex quickly got over his musings as he noticed Lara coming back out of the auction room. How long had he been standing there, engrossed in his own thoughts? The middle aged woman at the reception desk had been eyeing him suspiciously, standing in the middle of the lobby, staring unfocused at the ground, metal briefcase in hand. Lara headed towards him….

**Author's Note:** So, anyone still interested in Alex and Lara from the first movie?


	2. Incertitude

**Authors Note:** Alex may seem out of character at first but all will eventually be explained. Hope I don't go too far and make him unbelievable. This piece of fanfic will largely be focused on him. It's great to see there are still Alex/Lara people out there. It's the reason I discovered fan fiction, so it means a lot, lol.

**Disclaimer:** Tomb Raider and its characters are the property of Simon West, Paramount Pictures and Eidos Interactive. This story is strictly for my own personal pleasure. Any similarity between this story's plot and any others is purely coincidental. No plagiarism is intended.

Chapter Two: Incertitude.

Alex's features were stoic as Lara approached. He had refrained from initiating any contact with her after she had icily told him in no uncertain terms that he was a pariah, and was no longer welcome to use the term 'friend' in conjunction with her name. This happened after getting off the Chinook just outside Venice. She had cornered him and, knife to his throat, threatened him in a way far more effective then any restraining order. It was a far cry from the almost amicable conversation they had shared on the Chinook. He didn't think randomly bumping into her in Boothby's Auction House counted as breaking their agreement, but her pursed lips and tense jaw seemed to indicate otherwise. An analogy came to mind: Achelous, a river god, who changed into a snake and a bull while fighting Hercules, was defeated when Hercules broke off one of his horns. Alex felt like he had been destroyed when Lara broke off all contact with him, ostracized the snake who only caused trouble. Poor Bryce looked troubled at the thought of going home with such an irate Lara.

Alex hadn't smiled in months, nor had he socialized. He knew that this was a bad idea. He had suffered from agoraphobia as a teen and had rarely left his room. Ironic how it was Lara who had helped him over come that fear, and now she had become the slow acting catalyst leading towards a relapse. Lack of desire to leave his flat was the first step. A few more months and it would be full blown. Being an archaeologist, that could be bad for business. Alex knew he should have stuck to the research side of the field.

"Alex," Lara was now standing directly in front of him, and he was glad of the height difference. Putting on his never failing arrogant façade, he leaned against the railing and waited for her to continue. "I thought you were on a dig?"

"Trying to avoid me? Lara, I always thought you met your problems head on?" seeing her expression sour further, he quickly changed tact. "Who said I was on a dig?"

"You haven't been seen in awhile. Rumour was you were on an extended dig somewhere in the Mesopotamian region. Shame." She looked around, as if searching for an excuse to end this conversation and escape. Alex shifted so he blocked more of her peripheral view, and surreptitiously clutched the inner lining of his suit pocket.

"So how have you been?" his voiced had dropped an octave, trying to ignore the receptionist still staring at him with an air of contempt. She had obviously decided that he was not here for business purposes and had taken it upon herself to keep an eye on him. Alex felt an almost undeniable urge to give her the finger. He focused his attentions again on Lara as it appeared she was making to move away from him.

"I don't think that's any of your business, Alex. Now if you'll excuse me…." and with that she was gone, all trace of her merged with the crowd. _Damn. _The curse now had another layer of meaning as Alex checked his watch, realizing he was now forty-six minutes late, and hurried to his meeting with one of the auctioneers. On his way he waved cheerily at the receptionist, and suppressed a laugh as he heard her _tut _behind him.

­­

* * *

_Essex, 1991._

The school was situated eighteen miles off the M11, near Great Waltham. It was a tall, Romanesque building, built in the nineteenth century. It was designed largely after the Foundations Abbey, in Yorkshire. The walls weren't as thick as the original style in the tenth and eleventh centuries due to improvement in architecture, but the windows and doors with the rounded top remained. A long gravel driveway led up to the main building and divided into two roads encircling the construction until they joined again in a large open car park at the back.

The large school grounds catered for everything those of the aristocracy tend to enjoy: polo, rugby, swimming and equestrian activities, among others. Large, gently sloping lawns dotted with trees, shrubs and many different kinds of flowers flowed around the building, the moderate breeze giving the grass the appearance of waves. Behind the building where the swimming pool was situated, a place of serene quiet was located. Intricate wooden benches designed with floral carvings surrounded a pond fifteen metres wide at its widest point. A large tree with drooping branches that created a kind of skirt lightly brushed the water. Many couples had meandered there way there at one point or another. All conversation seemed to cease as one neared this tranquil area, everyone seeming to treat it as something sacred. In the world of today, any area with a simple beauty and peace seemed to be hallowed. An oasis in the middle of a centre for learning. Hushed voices and the soft turning of pages, mingled with the singing of birds and the soothing noise of moving air on water soothed the pupils' minds and allowed them a moment to breathe. In contrast, at the other end of the grounds a band of orchestral musicians played _The Four Seasons_.

Inside, many marble columns lined the great hall at the entrance to the school. The floor was a clean tan tile. Numerous corridors leading to classrooms and dormitories tapered off at every angle, some lined with lockers. Immediately to the left was the reception desk where visitors signed in and any students wishing to leave the grounds had to first report. The uniform consisted of dark grey slacks or a green and navy chequered skirt- optional- a blue shirt, and a navy tie and jumper. The navy blazers were rarely worn during the summer term. At ten to nine, the building was stuffed with people hurrying to class, loitering in the hallways or trying to jam in some last minute study.

Class 4A: Classical Studies. The room sloped upwards towards the back, allowing the students an equal view of the large white-board on the right as one enters the door. Rows of single desks lined the floor, but the walls were almost barren of life, apart from the occasional graffiti on its lower half. It seems even those of the higher class don't escape the drudgery of vandalism, even if it is mostly on a smaller scale. The noise in the classroom grew more subdued as the long hand on the clock above the board edged closer to twelve.

The sixteen year old Lara Croft had her feet propped up on the desk- a habit she had already acquired- her hair was in a simple pony tail, and she had chosen the option of slacks. She looked up from her book on ancient Hellenistic rituals when she felt a new presence beside her. A blonde haired boy pulled out the normally empty seat next to her at the front of class, dropping his over stuffed backpack beside him. Without sparing a glance around the room, he pulled out the course book and began to flick through it. He was wearing the blazer and his collar button was done, she noticed. Most of the students in the school wouldn't suffer to have that button done, Lara included- far too uncomfortable. He had an austere expression. It seemed no one else had noticed him yet. Usually a new student was surrounded by over-eager class mates, with the class representative trying to squeeze in through the crowd in order to formally welcome the person to the school.

The bell indicating the start of class finally rang, and the class-rep called out for silence as there was a universal dive into backpacks for books and copies. A middle-aged man with receding red hair and a tweed suit entered the room. He was of average height and build, and placing his leather briefcase on the large oak desk in front of the board, class was in session.

First item on the agenda was role-call, a curse of every English school. Last name on the list was West, Alexander, to which the boy beside Lara replied. Noticing where the new student was sitting, he couldn't help making plans concerning the other teachers as to how long he could stand the seating location. Not that Lara was a bad student, au contraire, but since her father had died nine years ago she had become almost insufferable to the other students, demanding they do things for her before finally giving them the proverbial cold-shoulder. Being at the top of a lot of her classes didn't help with her acceptance among her peers. When all the students in the class looked over at the boy, he shifted anxiously and uncomfortably stared down at his desk. Nope, he wouldn't stand a chance with Lara.

At ten o'clock the bell rang, and there was a mad dash for the front of the room. Lara got up and left for her next class, leaving the boy to fend off the avalanche of questions bombarding him from every angle. He had taken the sullen option and sat staring at the desk silently. Another minute went by until the teacher finished shuffling his papers and made to disperse the class. West bolted out the door at the first opportunity, and, ignoring the aid of the class-rep, pulled out a map of the school and hurried down the many hallways to the supposed location of his next class. He glanced at the door. Class 2D: Literature.

Entering, the only face he recognized was that of his neighbour from his previous class, sitting in the same position- second from the wall. Taking the same seat, he nervously ran a hand through his hair as he felt several pairs of eyes on him, and then hurriedly tried to sort out the mess he'd made of it. _First impressions, and all that,_ he thought idly as the class began to settle down, finally taking off the blazer as the sun shone directly on his back through the floor-to-ceiling windows. When the teacher didn't show for several minutes the noise decibel began to rise steadily once more.

Taking Peter F. Hamilton's _Fallen Dragon_ out of his backpack, Alex tried to read over the commotion around him, a skill he had developed in a noisy home. The only problem was that the person next to him was tapping her foot against the edge of his table, jarring him each time. After the fleeting thought on her beauty-_ don't start with that shit,_ he sternly scolded himself- he cleared his throat. When no answer was forthcoming he tried to ignore her, rather than put himself in an awkward position. A third way through the class with still no sign of the teacher, Alex took a deep breath and attempted to get her attention,

"Um, excuse me?" _tap-tap_. "Hey, do you mind?" She finally turned towards him and looked down to where he was indicating.

"Move, then," and she turned back to her book, which he realised he had been meaning to read.

"Is that any good?" He pointed at the book in her hand. She simply glared at him. " I was going to check it out of the library, but I had reached my borrowing limits." No reply. He looked closed, and noticed the little piece of plastic marking its shelf number was missing. " That's your own?,"_ tap-tap_. Sighing, he went back to his book just as the now-twenty-five-minutes-late teacher finally arrived and started class. Everyone took out a copy of John Steinbeck's _Of Mice and Men, _but he noticed that the girl beside him kept her book on her knees under the table, and paid no attention to the lesson.

_

* * *

_

_Boothby's, the present._

Alex finally left the meeting with a lighter briefcase and furrowed brows. How was he going to get Lara to talk to him? Better yet, how was he going to get her to stay in the same room as him for more than a few moments? He knew what he had done was wrong, but it wasn't bad enough to deserve this treatment, surely? Why had she taken it to heart so much?

He was contemplating this when his cell phone vibrated. A text message showed up on screen. From Lara. Telling him to meet her at his apartment at seven thirty. He tried to reply, but she had switched her phone off. This was the point in which he realised he had moved flats. _Shit._

**Authors Note:** I know Peter F. Hamilton's book was not out in 1991, but it seemed like something Alex would read. If any one has read it, then you would know there is a lot more in it than just sci-fi. Thank you for reading.


	3. Admission

**Authors Note:** Some people may be confused by the time changes. The flash backs are out of order and are supposed to leave gaps that will later be filled. Hope people are enjoying this as the end is no where in sight. Oh, I know the beginning kinda has an immature air of writing bout it, but it was a good few years ago that I wrote this, and I'm just 20 now. It felt wrong to change it entirely, for some reason. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and sorry to those I couldn't personally respond to, I still REALLY appreciate it. This little anecdote is based on real life events… very funny real life events. Alex plays the role of my soon-to-be-first-boyfriend. I am never showing anyone I know this story ;P

**Disclaimer:** Tomb Raider and its characters are the property of Simon West, Paramount Pictures and Eidos Interactive. This story is strictly for my own personal pleasure. Any similarities between this story's plot and any others are purely coincidental. No plagiarism is intended. The lyrics of _the weapons are concealed _belong to Biffy Clyro.

**I'm wearing it under my face.**

**An expression and an admission of my disgrace.**

**But I'm sure I will make it okay.**

**I'll try to give you something better.**

**I'm wearing it today.**

**You with a grin on your face.**

**Me with a bag in its place.**

**I've tied a rope round my neck, trying to win your respect.**

**Conceal the weapons.**

**Death shares everything I have.**

**But I hate the way I conceal the weapons. **

**Blame it on the staring match between the two of us.**

Chapter Three: Admission.

_Essex, 1992._

A year had passed since Alex had first joined Lara's school, and since then they had developed a posse of friends. There was Reginald Carter, Keif Macarthur, Michael Smith and Eric Whithers. It was the middle of the summer, the sun was shining and there were only a few cirrus clouds dotting the sky like delicate brush stokes. Alex, Lara, Reginald and Keif had been wondering around all day when doing nothing was on the agenda. Michael was one of those who said they would be in, and then slept until two in the afternoon and forgot about the plans. Eric was on holiday in Tennessee. They had wondered aimlessly around the nearest town, checking out the usual haunts: the video store, Buskers (local instrument shop) and all the local record shops. They finally got tired of walking and went to their favourite café. It had three floors: the ground floor had a take-away sandwich bar and a few scattered tables; the third floor had another food counter where one could order hot food and a delicious English fry. This floor had enough tables to comfortably seat a hundred-and-fifty people. The pseudo-second floor was where the group headed, hoping it was free. It had two couches facing each other with two low wooden tables joined in the middle. There were a number of small poufs, and a baby chair leaned against the wall under the stairs. A banister ran along two sides as it was more of an after thought between floors. One could look down and see all the people drinking hot beverages below. Luckily, today it was empty.

Lara and Reginald were seated on the couch nearest the stairs, while Keif sat next to Alex on the opposite couch. In order to keep the employees happy, they all ordered hot chocolates. They chatted for awhile about nothing important before Lara and Kief became lost in the conversation between Alex and Reginald on why the guy in the red suit always dies in Star Trek. Eventually Claire and Denise, relatively new acquirements to the group, appeared at the top of the stairs, Claire leaning on Denise for support as she caught her breath, obviously just recovering from a fit of the giggles. Alex, being a gentleman, went to sit on one of the poufs, giving up his seat which Denise quickly took, sidling up to Kief. Claire tried to squeeze in between Lara and Reginald, who budged up to make room, Lara only slightly begrudgingly. She was known to like her space, and considered getting up to take one of the remaining poufs, but then thought better of it when she saw Alex glance at her with a smirk on his face. The topics soon moved on to whether Denise should get her tongue pierced and plans for going up to the Download festival before one the waitresses asked them to leave. Some days they could stay for hours, but today was particularly busy, and twice Alex had dropped one the balls that he was attempting to juggle onto a table below. He insisted that he wanted to join the juggling club once he went to Uni*, and any aspiring juggler should have a set of balls handy. It really was amazing how far this eclectic group had come, despite the mounting bets in the teacher's lounge, especially now that two of the group had 'gotten together'.

Claire and Denise- after a long goodbye with Kief- eventually disappeared, and the gang made to go to Alex's house, which was a little way outside of the main town, but half way there they decided to take a short cut through the yet unfinished bypass that cut through the field beside Alex's estate, which had a two dozen or so nice sized houses, all identical apart from the lawns and coat of paint. They had two floors, and the kitchens led to a glass conservatory. The group slipped and slid on the loose stones of the rocky-just-begun bypass until they eventually reached the cliff part at the end, overlooking the unkempt field, with grass and weeds up to your elbows. They spent some time rolling the larger boulders down the cliff, Lara's comment about 'juvenile males' falling on deaf ears, loud booms randomly ringing out across the field, followed by the rattling of loose stones cascading down the steep slope. Several people over in the estate looked over, but were too far away to recognize faces, or tell the young hoodlums to stop making noise.

Reginald eventually took charge, as none of the others cared much about what they did. They scrambled down the cliff, bringing a barrage of stones with them and almost losing their footing numerous times, with the exception of Lara, who traversed the crumbling rock surface with cat like agility. Eventually at the bottom, they realized that a small river ran along the cliff's edges, wider than five feet at any given point, and meandered through the green sea of grass. Running along the edge, they eventually found a grassy path and made a bee-line for the estate after several brushes with the river, which had a habit of just appearing. Coming up to a barbed wire fence, they realized that the river ran across the whole border of the estate, which started in a two metre rocky precipice where building work had been going on.

"Shit," Alex laughed as he remembered that the plank across the river had been broken by Reginald on a previous escapade, before the bypass had started. Lara smiled wryly at the guys' stupidity. It had been their idea, and now here they were, stuck in a field riddled with nettles, all of them too stubborn to turn around and go back the way they had come now that they had been presented with a challenge.

"You're the monkey boy, you go first," Kief gave Alex a shove.

"I resent the 'monkey boy' remark. Why do I get that where ever I go?"

"Because you're a 'monkey boy'," They chorused in unison. He was never going to live the whole 'climbing' thing down. First of all, he had a penchant for heights, and enjoyed spending time on roofs or up a tree. Then there was the whole 'stalking' fiasco… Two girls from the year below had taken a real shine to Alex, hanging out wherever he was around and generally hounding him. While idling in the park one day, he had spotted them heading towards the group, no doubt to ask him embarrassing questions and generally disrupt his day, so in a fit of nerves he had pushed Lara forward to distract them. When she turned to snap at his manhandling, he was nowhere to be seen, which was impossible, as there was nowhere to hide. Looking up, she caught sight of him climbing up the lamp post in a bid to hide from the girls. It had been successful, and he had reached the top of the lamp post without them being aware, but his friends had found it hilarious that he had literally been driven 'up a tree'. That he had done it with such adroitness was beside the point.

Alex was jerked again.

"Hey! I'm trying to climb over barbed wire here!" He shouted indignantly, one leg balanced precariously on the lower rung of the barbed wire on either side.

"Wouldn't want any mishaps, now would we?" Lara's eyes flickered downwards for a second before giving Alex her most dazzling smile. Alex merely laughed off the comment a little too quickly and decided to chance it. He swung his leg over the other side and jumped. He was glad he was still holding onto the wooden post as he realized the safe-looking grass on the other side was actually part of the river, and his shoes were flooded. Deciding not to tell the others about his little discovery he beckoned them over. Once they were all over and equally as wet as him, they looked around. Except Kief who had jumped a little too far. His right leg was now soaked up to his knee. They all swore profusely at Alex.

"The river looks shallower over here, think I might make a run for it," stated Alex, staring over at the building site just half a dozen feet away. He tried to jump half-way across, only again to realize he had miscalculated. It rose up to his upper thighs. While the guys laughed on the other side, he waded the rest of the way in half jumps, soaking himself further. Climbing up the small edge, he swiftly proceeded to whip his trousers off over his black and white converse trainers in one, fluid motion.

"He made it across?" Lara sounded slightly daunted by the thought; not of wading through that mass of water, but because she was beginning think it looked a little like sewerage, if the brown liquid running down Alex's bare legs was any indication.

"The real question is: how did he take off his pants without removing his shoes?" Reginald quipped.

"I am the king!" Alex half yelled in answer to Reginald's question, wringing his hands above his head. "Jump in, the water's goddamn freezing!" he looked over at a pile of blocks.

"I think over here is shallower," moving a few steps down the river, Reginald motioned for Alex to throw in some of the blocks, to further shallow the stretch of water. Hoisting up a block, Alex chucked it in roughly the area indicated, causing a large splash and the further soaking of his mates.

"Hey, watch it!" shouted Kief as Alex proceeded to throw block after block into the river, to no visible avail. Deciding that it should be shallow enough, Reginald jumped into roughly the centre. Unfortunately, this part was actually deeper and filled with sewerage. Reginald, despite being 6'3", was submerged up to his belly button in freezing water. He gave a yelp as he realized his feet were stuck in the sticky goop.

The group were doubled over in laughter as Reginald yelled for help. Alex climbed part way down the opposing cliff and reached out a hand to help him out, but was laughing so hard that he kept unintentionally pulling it back.

"Will you stop vibrating and get me the hell out of here!" cried Reginald who was now laughing equally as hard, which only caused him to sink further. Finally getting hold of himself enough to get a grip on his friend's out stretched arm, Alex hoisted him out, almost toppling back in at the resistance he met from the sludge.

"Dude, you're covered in shit!" Alex was practically rolling on the ground as Reginald tried to take off his pants like Alex had, only to get them tangled around his shoes. Alex looked over by the fence that enclosed the building site and led to the estate, noticing for the first time the two wooden ladders lying on the gravel. "Shit, there were ladders there," he pointed, and Reginald almost hit him.

"So I'm soaked up to my waist in shit for nothing!" another howl of laughter erupted from their still stranded friends. They draped the ladders across the river one over the other as they weren't that strong and, with Lara grabbing the other end and positioning the closest ladder, the others got over without much mishap. Lara gave the two 'heroes' a quick mock hug, even though she lingered a moment longer in Alex's embrace. They proceeded on their route to Alex's house, climbing over the fence and laughing at the onlookers. They must look a right sight! Soaked trousers, dishevelled clothes, two of them in just their t-shirts and boxers, brown water running down their legs.

Outside his house, Alex ordered them to take off their shoes and socks. Leading them round the back, he ordered Kief to close the gate they had just passed though behind him. In the yard, they draped their socks and shoes over the washing line to the sounds of two little dogs yapping from inside the house.

"That's new," Lara had noticed a path of sawed off logs leading to what looked like a small vegetable garden, half of which was hidden by a see-through plastic tent, emitting warmth- obviously a green house. The rest of the garden was surrounded by a tall, dark wooden fence, which two thin trees seemed to rest against, leaning over into the garden behind. On the opposite side of the garden, joining the conservatory, was a nice wooden patio, complete with wooden deck chairs and table. Looking into the conservatory, one could see two wooden benches lined with cushions, and sculptures of chameleons and long legged birds made from black wire and multicoloured crystal-like stones. A book lay open face down on the bench nearest the patio. _Ancient American civilisations._

"Made it myself," Alex told her proudly. As the others used his key to open the back door, from which burst to furry little hellions, Alex showed Lara the vegetable patch, and told her about all the splinters and blisters he received while cutting the logs and digging up the path and soil.

"I never knew you were interested in gardening?" Alex looked somewhat sheepish at the question.

"I'm not… my dad kind or tricked me into it by saying I couldn't do it…" Lara laughed, thinking of the amount of times she had gotten him to do something simply by saying he wasn't capable. He never could resist a challenge, much like her self, though she knew when she was being tricked.

After Reginald and Alex took a shower- there was a bathroom downstairs and two upstairs- and everyone cleaned up, the guys all begged Alex to make them waffles. Alex acquiesced. His mother was the one who normally made them, but she had left him instructions and he was a good cook, he was sure he could do it. His foster parents had gone to France for two weeks, and Alex was left on his own, hence the numerous sleep-overs, but they were a good group of friends, and Alex cleaned the house daily. Reginald and Kief took a beer from the fridge and went into the sitting room. Alex's foster parents left beer out in the hopes that he would take it (they denied they were in any way hippy-ish, but they were very mischievous), but Alex had developed a reaction to it that was probably psychosomatic. Lara wouldn't drink.

Lara watched and laughed as Alex made the Waffle mixture, occasionally mixing the ingredients in the wrong order, and then running out of butter and somehow making a substitute. It was only half three in the day. Ready, he called in the other guys. Placing ice cream, maple syrup and sprinkles on the table, they all tucked in.

"These are pretty good, cheers," Kief mumbled, mouth half full.

"I thought I screwed it up a few times, and then when I ran out of butter and had to make my own…." Alex laughed as his two non-present-at-the-time friends nearly dropped their forks.

"What kind of _cream_ did you put in it? Alex? We know what your like," Kief stared closely at his waffle. Alex merely raised his eyebrows. Seeing that Lara was still eating, Kief picked up his fork once more.

"Hey Reg, you bring the video?" That was Lara, and after everyone had finished they went into the living room to watch _Ninja Scroll._ The sitting room was also filled with small sculptures of animals, this time made of wood, there were two giraffes and a family of hippos, as well as a number of lizards stuck on the wall. There were several paintings on the two walls that didn't have windows. The one above the fire place on the right as one enters the door was a rather nice painting by Alex himself of a scene where two knights on horse back were jousting to the cheers of a crowd with their back to the viewers. A large red dragon was in the background. It must have been done when he was eleven or so. He was definitely the artist in the group. In the corner along the same wall was the television. On the left of the door was another windowless wall and one of the couches, and the wall opposite the fire place had the other, both with throw-overs and cushions. Next to the couch by the window was a leather arm chair with a nice footstool. Kief quickly sat down in that one, Reginald on the couch beside him. With Lara closest to the door, she and Alex both sat down on the Couch furthest from the television as the credits rolled, talking and making fun of various things during the movie, earning them surreptitious glances from their other friends. After the movie and numerous music videos (who gave Reg the remote?), it was half six and time for pizza. Money had been left for take-outs.

As the evening waned on Lara left to go home. Immediately after she was gone, Kief and Reg asked Alex if he liked her, to which he replies 'no' nonchalantly. Not believing a word of it, they proceeded to randomly ask throughout the evening, hoping to catch him unawares. Alex always seemed to open up more very early in the morning, a combination of lack of sleep and low blood pressure made worse by the fact that he had a habit of hanging upside while watching _South Park_, his favourite show, to which he had all the current seasons. At ten past three, Reg asked him again.

"Alright, alright. Yes I like her," Alex finally admitted, sighing heavily. "You have no idea how hard it is. Reg, I know you've been turned down a few times but this is different. She's my best friend and I spend so much time with her, knowing she doesn't feel the same. I went back to America for a month this summer, and sulked for most of it. I locked myself in my room and couldn't even read or watch TV because I missed her so much. I actually don't like any other girl in school because my mind is focused solely on Lara Croft." There was silence in the aftermath of this revelation. They hadn't expected that depth of feeling.

"Damn, you got it bad," Kief shook his head in pity as Alex stared at his now pyjama clad knees.

"You know she likes you too, right?" Alex laughed humourlessly at Reg. "You don't have to believe me but its true. She told me awhile ago. It was almost as hard as you to wring it out of her." They spent another half hour trying to convince Alex that Lara did indeed like him, before giving up and changing subject, noticing how uncomfortable it was making Alex.

When the others had finally fallen asleep, Alex mulled their conversation over in his mind. Could Lara possibly be interested in him? He would like to think so, but he hadn't seen any signs that she did, though Reg had pointed out that Alex had never been in a relationship, and so wouldn't know what to look for. Whenever Lara snapped at him, or ignored him, Alex felt like shit and spent the time until he saw her again trying to figure out what he did wrong. Maybe she only put up with him because she felt obliged to? That she really hated him? Then there were days like today where everything was right and there was no place he'd rather be. If Alex went a long time without seeing her, he would grow increasingly frustrated and upset until he just crawled under the bed with ear phones, not moving except for nature calls for days at a time. Alex didn't miss people. Never. He never felt a longing for his real family, or the friends he had made and left behind while being shunted in the foster care system. But with Lara … It just hurt so much when she wasn't there, like everything good in his life was missing.

He knew he depended on her too much, but when ever he tried to wean himself off her it was unbearable. He tried to think of everything about her that he didn't like, but he kept drawing up a blank. He liked even those qualities other people found annoying. He refused to put a name to what he thought he felt.

Alex sighed, resigned to the fact that he would be getting no sleep tonight.

_

* * *

_

_Alex's flat, present._

That's why it killed him when Lara broke off all contact with him. Now he was sure it was love, having been in relationships. None of those women, though he cared about them, hit him in just the right place like Lara did. At some point, his previous girlfriends realized this and, some being not so understanding, broke up with him. He was wounded to the core when Lara angrily shouted at him over the prayer wheels. But it broke his heart when she wouldn't even let him explain. He had a _good_ reason, _dammit._ After everything they had been through together she had given up on him the first chance she got. So what else was new? But he had thought she was different. He was certain thereafter that she really had felt nothing for him, it was all one sided. He knew that he had denied that she liked him anyway, but the confirmation was shattering.

It was just gone six o'clock. The thin grey curtains in Alex's bedroom were shut, blocking out the ailing sun. Alex had been sitting on his four-poster bed that was pushed up by the window, the same one that he had in his previous apartment on White Chapel Street. Only the mattress had been changed. The new one was far more comfortable, but the edges drooped over the sides of the bed stand, giving it a slightly-out-of-place feel. The dark grey sheets were crisp on one side of the bed, and rumpled where he sat, as he had shifted position numerous times. He had left the lights off, preferring to think in darkness. He was sitting on the edge of the bed furthest from the window, hands clasped between his knees, head slightly bowed in thought. A slight frown creased his brow, trying to figure out what Lara could possibly want from him. With a sigh and a decisive nod of his head, Alex got up, planning on taking a shower. He would just have to wait and see. He had always been a 'wait and see' kinda guy, anyway.

_

* * *

_

_White Chapel street, South-East London, present._

Lara Croft had decided to walk the rest of the way to Alex's flat as Bryce had asked to come along in order to see a friend of his about a new search engine. Lara had had no idea that Bryce was interested in that side of computers, but then again Bryce _would_ have to have a dabble at everything techno-related. Having dropped Lara off some streets away, Hilary had conceded to go with Bryce and keep him out of trouble. She didn't want a repeat of the last time Bryce had went to see a 'friend'. Another fiasco like _that_ was the last thing she needed.

Slipping off a shoulder strap as she neared the flat, Lara noticed Alex waiting outside. Wasn't he going to invite her in? He may be a sell out, but Alex was nothing if not polite.

Lara had thought of Alex a lot in the past few days, her constant dreams involving him seeming to have conjured up the real thing. After the Chinook, Lara couldn't help but feel guilty at how she had treated him, and then chided herself for worrying over him. Still, when she saw Powell throw the knife at Alex's chest, and then watched him plunge beneath the water only to let out a cry of agony as his lower body was crushed by the orrery, Lara could think of nothing but saving him. She didn't shed any tears as she watched him die, having already decided that this was not how things were going to happen. Her subconscious had already made up its mind to use the triangle if she could to save him even as she gave him the breath of life. The relief she felt to see him standing there, slightly confused could only be beaten by the relief she felt when she realised that he had no recollection of what happened. She knew that Powell had figured out that Lara's feelings towards Alex weren't purely platonic- the scenes between the two in Cambodia being a primary clue. Powell had had men follow Alex as he chased after Lara, and had been informed of Alex's momentary lapse of weakness when he let her go. It was obvious that there were some things the American valued more than money.

Lara had contrived to not tell Alex what really happened, and the fact that up until this point she had refused to see him helped her avoid the questions she knew he would ask. Unfortunately Lara needed help, and Alex was the only man for the job. Ancient American history was a specialty of his, especially the Mayan culture.

As she approached, Alex made his way towards her, a slight look of guilt on his face.

"Um, Lara?" What had he done this time? She narrowed her eyes at him, already regretting setting any wheels in motion. "I haven't done anything," he put up his hands defensively, slightly annoyed at her level of mistrust. "It's just that I've moved apartment, and I tried to ring you but your cell phone was switched off, and no one would answer at the Manor. Look, I live in the North-West of London now, and it would take too long to get there. Can whatever it is you have to say to me be said in a café or something?" Lara acquiesced, and they moved to find a place to talk, Lara a step ahead the whole time.

**Authors Note:** Thank you for taking the time to read. Oh, and again, I know about South Park and the time line, yada yada. It's another anachronism, lol. PS, even I don't know what substitute he used for the butter…

*Uni- pretty self-explanatory, it's short for University. Just adding the note here because I've known people from outside England who don't know what it means. Just so people from outside the UK know, College is still like high school, basically the equivalent of the last two years, and is optional. University is the American equivalent of College, where there are diplomas and PhDs galore. Not all Secondary schools in England cater for the last two years leading to University, but Alex and Lara's school does. I think I got that right?


End file.
